


Tick Tock

by Fall_Out_Mak



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Becomes something more, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky is such a precious thing, Cameras, Drunks are dicks, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Love, Maybe - Freeform, Sex, Simple favor, Songs, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Triggers, Violence, Wrote this is the shower, most of it anyways, this is all steve's fault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 10:10:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6113254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fall_Out_Mak/pseuds/Fall_Out_Mak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living 1-6 months with an ex-HYDRA assassin should be easy, right? (Y/N) didn't think so. But when Steve asked her personally to help watch his childhood friend, she didn't have much of a choice. Damn him and his good looks. As times passes, things come to light- one of them being her relationship with James Barnes himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On Your Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure I keep thinking of new fics in order to procrastinate on all the other ones. Feedback would be lovely, since I'd love to incorporate other people's ideas into this. Enjoy!

Slamming the door shut behind you, you hurried towards the kitchen, throwing the groceries onto the granite counter-tops. And the old man at the store thought you couldn’t make it in one trip- _please_. Two trips are for wimps, and since you didn’t have a car, it was slightly mandatory; but since it was a small town and you lived only a few miles away from any kind of civilization, you didn’t care all that much.

  
Busying yourself, you quickly put all the groceries away. Snatching an orange out of the fruit bowl, you began to peel the thick skin off as you rounded the corner into the living room.

  
Before you could process what was happening, you covered your mouth in terror as your orange rolled under the sofa. “What the hell Steve!?” you exclaimed, erupting into a fit of laughter. Steve had been lounging on the love-seat, obviously waiting for your return, just to be greeted with an orange to the face.

  
“That’s one way to say hi,” he chuckled, wiping the juice off his face. Biting your lip, you did your best to control your laughter. “Maybe next time you should wait outside till I get home, like a normal person,” you muttered. He stared back, still not quick with comebacks.

  
“So what do you need?” You asked, beginning the search for your wasted snack. “Well…” Sitting back on your heels, you glanced at the super solider, your eyebrow raised. “I need a favor,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

  
“What could Captain America, the nation’s hero, need from pitiful old me?” You teased, smiling when you finally grasped the orange from under the sofa. “That’s the problem, you won’t like it.” Getting to your feet, you headed back towards the kitchen. “Walk and talk Steve.”

  
Following you, he continued to beat around the bush. “I thought I could handle things on my own, but I was just assigned a mission, and-” “Steve,” you barked, throwing the fruit away, “Just tell me already.”

  
“I need you to watch Bucky.”

  
Bucky? As in James Buchanan Banes? “You want me to babysit an ex-assassin of HYDRA, what kind of drugs is Tony giving you? Cause it must be something good,” you laughed; utterly amazed he would even consider this as a possibility. “I’m serious (Y/N). Fury wants him locked up and monitored, but he’ll never recover that way. He’s been doing well at my place, I just can’t leave him alone yet,” Steve insisted, looking at you with pleading eyes.

  
“You do realize I have no super powers at all? I am a hundred percent human; meaning, if he decides to relapse, I am a goner. Hell Steve, I’m not even an agent. He’ll pop my head off faster than a pubescent teenager can pop a pimple,” you stated, leaning on the kitchen counter. “What can I do for him? I write songs, and take pictures while living off of my inheritance money; there is literally nothing he will gain from staying with me.”

  
“You don’t have to teach him anything, just make sure he’s safe,” Steve pressed on, desperate for you to help. Shaking your head, you silently cursed yourself for ever becoming friends with this gorgeous idiot. “How long?” “What?” “How long would he be staying here?”

  
Instantly Steve’s face lit up, “You’re saying you’ll-” “I’m not saying anything, I’m considering,” you corrected him. “If the mission goes as planned, a month. If Clint slips up again, possibly six,” Steve admitted.

  
Could you survive six months with a former calculated killer? Probably not. Would you be willing to help your best friend out? Definitely. Were you happy about it? No.

  
“You owe me Steve Rogers,” you sighed, already knowing deep down that there was no way in hell that you were going to say no. “I’ll watch as many crappy TV shows as you want when I get back,” he laughed, pulling you in for a hug. “Language Steve.”

  
“Are you _kidding_ me!? You too?”

  
*****

  
Three knocks at the door interrupted your binge watching of Supernatural. “It’s open,” you called, not bothering to move from the sofa. The sound of muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor was barely acknowledged as Bobby called the boys ‘idjits’ once more. Only when the clearing of a throat reached your ears did you finally pause the show.

  
“Hey Steve,” you chuckled, glancing up, “and Bucky-” You trailed off as the air was sucked out of you. You were captivated by the most beautiful baby-blue eyes you had ever laid eyes on. His chiseled face was perfectly framed by shaggy chocolate locks. Foul play Steve.

  
“Buck, this is (Y/N). You’ll be staying with her while I’m gone,” Steve explained. “This isn’t a good idea,” Bucky began, already wanting out. “Hey Buck-a-Roo, don’t worry about it,” you chuckled, peeling yourself out of the indent in the cushion. “I agreed to this whole roommate situation on my own, so don’t start getting cold feet now.”

  
He stared back at you bewildered, obviously taken back by how straight forward you were. “Steve can you put his bags in the spare bedroom? I want to talk to him for a moment,” you asked, giving the First Avenger a small smile. “Sure.”

  
As Steve disappeared down the hallway, you walked over to Bucky. “Listen, I know this isn’t exactly Playboy Mansion, but I agreed to do this; not just for you, but for Steve. He worries about you, constantly, like a mother hen. As long as you’re here and safe, he’ll be able to focus on the mission at hand,” you explained, running a hand through your messy hair.

  
“You’re not an agent, you can’t stop me if-” “Is that a challenge? Is James Buchanan Barnes challenging _me_? Son back up, I know you’ve been on ice for a while, but you need to realize some things. I don’t let people run away from what makes them uncomfortable- I make them embrace it. You might be right; I am an average person with no special abilities, _but_ \- I don’t need brute strength to connect with someone. You’re no exception Bucky,” you reassured, as Steve reemerged from the hallway.

  
“It’s settled then, Bucky will stay with me until you return,” you exclaimed, clapping your hands, “Remember Steve, ladies don’t like to be kept waiting.”

 

 


	2. September 12th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pfft, it totally hasn't been two weeks since I updated anything... This chapter has been waiting to be posted- I just never got around to it. But hopefully I'll be able to update more regularly now. Hope you all enjoy! Any feedback is appreciated!

“So what do you want to do?” You asked, just now realizing that you had no idea how to keep an ex-terrorist entertained for potentially six months. Bucky sat on the love-seat, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. “I mean it, what do you want to do? You could be here for a while, I should at least know what you’d like to do,” you explained.

  
“My opinion doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, glancing at the ground. Doesn’t matter my ass. “Bucky,” you stated, “Bucky, look at me.” As he glanced up, the small click of a camera could be heard. “Gotcha,” you cheered, waving your camera around in the air. He stared at you cautiously, not moving a muscle.

  
“Oh geez Bucky, you had cameras back in your day, it’s just high tech,” you laughed, realizing he didn’t recognize the device. Walking over to him, you plopped down next to him. “Look,” you held the camera out in front of you, slowly going through the pictures saved, stopping before you reached the one of him. “I enjoy taking pictures, get used to it pretty-boy,” you chuckled, leaning into the sofa.

  
“Why?” Huh? Turning, you met his gaze. “Why do you enjoy taking pictures?” “I like catching the raw emotion people express when they’re lost in thought. People lie every day, but they lie to themselves the most. I like to see how people react, how they truly feel- it’s a hobby that never died out. I only take pictures if I’m overcome by emotions, or of something I love,” you rambled on; secretly glad you could express one of your passions freely.

  
“I have a spare camera if you’d like to give it a shot, no pun intended,” you joked, sitting up. “I’m sure you’ll find something you’re passionate about, whether it’s a hobby or a person.” Pulling yourself to your feet, you headed into the kitchen. “So what do you want to eat?”

  
*****

  
A couple days passed, Bucky and you made little conversation. He kept to his room, only coming out for meals. With him reluctant to make any kind of effort to communicate, you went on with your normal route.

  
That was until you got bored, and ended up outside Bucky’s door. Knocking on the polished wood, you balanced on your heels, resisting the urge to simply barge in. Moments passed and no sound of movement could be heard from the other side.

  
“Bucky? I know you’re in there, you can’t exactly ignore me for days on end,” you sighed, gripping the camera in your hand. “Bucky, hey Bucky. Buckyyyyy, Bucky, oh hey Bucky, you should like open the door. Bucky. Bucky Barnes, Barney. Barney the Purple-” Before you could continue the door was ripped open, showing a very unamused Bucky.

  
“Wow it feels like I haven’t seen you in days,” you scoffed, brushing past him. “So,” you began, flopping down onto the bed, “Come here.” Beckoning him closer, you pulled him down next to you, presenting him with the camera. “It’s about a year old, but it works wonders. I realize photography might not be your thing, but- it could be,” you beamed, already getting overly excited about this.

  
Spending about fifteen minutes explaining the controls and different functions, you deemed Bucky an amateur photographer. “It’s not too hard, but it’s a nice way to pass the time,” you muttered, glancing down at your now empty hands. “Keeps your mind busy.”

  
_Click._

  
Snapping your head up, you looked to see Bucky smirking, pulling the camera away from his face. “Gotcha,” he laughed, a genuine smile lifting the ends of his lips. “You- Did you just, oh _God_ , delete that!” you screeched, your voice sounded shrill.

  
Lunging for the camera, Bucky swiftly dodged, rolling off the bed. “Taking pictures and taking pictures of me are two completely different things,” you laughed, chasing the man into the hallway. “You said taking pictures, you never said anything about taking pictures of you,” he shot back, leaping over the couch.

  
“Yeah, well, I don’t think people would appreciate a picture of a baboon,” you said dryly, trying to predict his next move. He snorted at your self-depreciating joke, before sprinting towards the kitchen. “I call foul, you have super powers and I don’t,” you whined, already feeling pretty winded. You weren’t one for spontaneous exercise. “All is fair in love and war.”

  
“Oh, ha-ha, hilarious,” you scoffed, lunging for him once more, only to come up empty handed. “Gotta be faster than that doll,” he called from the living room. Rounding the corner, you swiftly ran straight at him, tackling him onto the sofa.

  
“Gotcha! Wait- How did you end up on top!?” “I figured you liked being bottom,” he joked, holding your arms above your head with one hand, while the other held the seemly untouchable camera. “Did you just make a _sex joke_?” “I’m old, not dead (Y/N),” he sighed, before pulling the camera strap over his head.

  
“Now how to punish such a troublesome girl?” He asked, a smirk plastered to his gorgeous face. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Try me,” he pressed.

  
“Ahhhh! Stop! Bucky! I can’t breathe! St-Op!” You cried out as your body squirmed underneath him. There was no way you were escaping his metal grip, so begging was your only option. “Bucky!” Your laughter filled the house, as he relentlessly tickled your ribs. “Say it!” “W-What?!” “That I can keep the picture,” he grinned, digging his fingers into your other side. “Fine! Keep it!”

  
As the words escaped your lips, his attack was halted at once. Flopping back into the cushion, you gasped for breath. “Dick move Barnes,” you hissed. “Anything to please the ladies,” he chuckled, pulling himself off of you. Flicking him off as he walked into the kitchen, you couldn’t help but smile.

  
Little did you know that he had rigged the camera into taking pictures itself every few seconds throughout your whole laughter fiasco.

 

 


	3. September 29th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, I manage to update! I apologize for procrastinating yet again. Hope you enjoy, and remember, any feedback or ideas are greatly appreciated!

Waltzing into the living room, you plopped down onto the sofa next to Bucky. “Is there a reason you had to sit right next to me?” He questioned, gesturing to the loveseat and recliner only a few feet away. “I’m cold, you’re hot, in more ways than one,” you joked, wiggling an eyebrow. He simply shook his head, returning his attention to the TV.

“Bar Rescue? Didn’t think you were into that type of thing,” you muttered, bringing your knees to your chest. “It’s amusing.” Of course an angry guy who looked like a fish would amuse him.

 “Wanna go into town?” “No.”  
  


***  
  


“Why are we in town?” He sighed, walking next to you. Bucky seemed reluctant at first when you suggested him accompanying you into town for supplies.  All he had to say was “no” for you to pick up on his uneasiness.  Town meant coming out of his comfort zone, and even worse, possibly meeting strangers.  “Come on, aren’t you sick of being stuck in that house. I feel like I’m wasting my days. Besides I need to restock on food,” you laughed, as you walked along the stone pathway. The town was old fashion but had a modern twist. The buildings were from the 1940s but the people came in all different sorts.

This was actually the first time Bucky looked like- well Bucky. He wore a black t-shirt covered by a form-fitting hoodie. The designer jeans that Tony had bought him, compliment his ass like no other; not that you were complaining. The camera you’d given him hung loosely around his neck. Even though he refused to trim his hair which was now in a man bun, which was topped with an old baseball cap, he did comply into shaving his scruffy beard. He seemed more comfortable than he had the entire time he’d been with you.

“I’ll buy you a drink, come on,” you urged, dragging him into a nearby café.

Despite the outside looking like a worn down building, the inside was almost calming. The nude colors that covered the walls, along with the splashes of colors that radiated by various art pieces made for a relaxing environment for any occasion. The classic jazz that flowed from the overhead speakers only completed the puzzle.

“Oh hey (Y/N),” a familiar voice called out. Looking up you noticed your friend Aiden standing on the other side of the counter. “Long time no see,” you beamed, unaware of the sudden scowl on Bucky’s face. “Who’s this?” “Oh, Aiden, this is Bucky,” you nodded towards the brooding man. “He’s staying at my place until Steve gets back from a trip,” you explained, not completely lying.

As you wandered over to the display case, you were unaware of the conversation Aiden and Bucky had started.

“Take care of her,” Aiden muttered, his eyes never leaving your small form. “She’s beyond reckless and is just as secretive as she is honest.” “She’s capable of taking care of herself,” Bucky muttered through clenched teeth. “You’re right, it’s just that my significant other would kill me if they knew that something happened to her,” Aiden admitted sheepishly.

Walking back over, you glanced between the two boys, unsure what had just taken place. “Aiden, no hitting on my friends,” you chuckled. “Anyways, two hot chocolates and two scones, if you would sir.” “It would be my genuine pleasure, my lady.”

Quickly paying and saying your goodbyes to Aiden, the two of you made your exit.

Walking out of the café, you carefully sipped your beverage. Glancing up, you lazily watched as the birds flew above, chasing each other without a care in the world. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be free,” you muttered, mainly to yourself. “Why aren’t you free?” Bucky questioned, a slightly concerned gaze fixed on you.

Damn him and his super hearing.

“Everyone has a past Bucky,” you managed, refocusing on your feet, “whether it’s good or bad is up to interpretation. I find mine to be on the unappealing side of the scale.” Slipping your arm around his, you gently steered him into the local marketplace, silently praying he’d drop the subject.

Grabbing a cart, you slowly went down each aisle, Bucky never leaving your side. The market was never busy, considering the population of the entire town was just a mere few hundred, yet today it seemed almost deserted. A few elderly couples lingered near the florist section while single mothers raced in and out, probably late to a soccer match or PTA meeting. Luckily no one paid much attention to Bucky.

Glancing over at the piece of eye candy that you were currently clinging too, you quickly assessed that Bucky was quite out of place. Despite his face being covered by the old baseball cap, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “What about a pack of these?” You held up a 6-pack of classic glass Coca-Cola bottles, with a childish grin inching its way to your lips.

“You’re such a kid,” he chuckled, shaking his head, fiddling with his camera. Ignoring his comment, you added the soda into the cart, before adding one more pack for good measure. The more aisles you went down, the more you figured Bucky would appreciate certain brands. Soon the cart was filled with all sorts of old brands, with a few newer ones. Whenever Bucky had stopped to observe labels or new types of food, you automatically added them.

Pushing the slightly heavy cart into the fresh produce section, you told Bucky to get whatever appealed to him as you began picking out oranges to refill your diminishing fruit bowl. You watched him as he scanned each fruit with utmost care, before wrapping them into a plastic bag. Each time he’d pause to see if you were watching, waiting until you gave him approval before adding it to the overflowing cart.

“That should be everything, and then some,” you joked, slightly struggling to push the massive cart towards the checkout.

“Maybe we should consider that we have to walk home before buying so much next time,” you huffed, pausing for the fifth time to catch your breath. “We’re only halfway there,” Bucky mused, not looking the least bit phased even though he carried twice the amount you did. “Like I said, foul play.”

“But hey, Aiden seemed to have taking a liking to you,” you pointed out, lightly elbowing him, as you resumed walking. “I wouldn’t consider that comforting,” he muttered, snatching a few more bags out of your hands. “He’s a nice enough guy; he didn’t have it easy when he came out to his parents- they were strict religious. Like word for word from the Bible,” you rambled on, only to stop talking when Bucky froze beside you.

“He’s _gay_?” Choking on your own spit, you quickly composed yourself. “Was that _not_ obvious? He was totally checking you out; too bad for you he’s taken,” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows. Much to your surprise, Bucky stuck his tongue out at you as the two of you bantered back and forth the entire walk home.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to Marvel, I simply own the story.


End file.
